


Gloves

by Mafief



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Go me! very little angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafief/pseuds/Mafief
Summary: Forming a new soul bond requires skin-to-skin contact. So, why is Watson feeling the formation of a bond when his hands are covered?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 133





	Gloves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okapi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/gifts).



> Happy (belated) birthday Okapi! 
> 
> You are presented with my first attempt at a soul bond fic. I hope you enjoy it! :D

“These cases involving soul bonds are a waste of my time,” Holmes had grumbled after our worried client left. He had been right. The client insisted she was abducted and wouldn’t leave him. He was wrong and she had left to pursue another whose bond with her was stronger and had gone into hiding until her current bond withered away. Leaving for a stronger bond was a common enough occurrence; despite Holmes explaining this to our distressed client, he insisted on Holmes’ help. 

That was the issue with soul bonds; it was possible to have weak connections with others. The strength of the bond depended on the compatibility between the two people: the more compatible, the stronger the bond. The fortunate with highly compatible bonds were said to be mentally linked and through that link could know their companion’s thoughts and feelings. Couples with the weakest bonds only experienced the strongest of emotions from their soul bond. Highly compatible bonds were rare. It was often easier to find someone who was at least partially compatible and established a weak bond. 

Most people feared incompatible bonds. There were instances of those being driven insane by initiating a bond with an incompatible. to prevent unwanted bonding, people wore gloves because skin-to-skin touch typically initiated the bond. I, like our client and others, had taken to wearing the gloves constantly. 

Holmes had found the unfortunate client’s wife. The altercation between the wife’s unwanted soul bound and soon-to-be soul bound had ended with a broken bottle and Holmes being at the wrong end of it. Holmes had refused to let me examine him at the scene or in the hansom ride home despite my objections. When we got to our chambers, I would insist. 

In the dim light of our rooms, I could see that the rag Holmes had pressed against his side was red. The wrap around his hand was also stained in red. 

“Let me examine you,” I said. 

“I can attend to my own care,” said Holmes. He tried to remove his jacket and winced. 

“And by doing so you will injure yourself more,” I implored. Holmes gave me his most assessing look and I held his gaze steady. I knew my stubbornness was rewarded when he sighed. 

“Well Watson, as I am unlikely to convince you otherwise when your mind is set upon an action, I will submit to your experienced care.”

I fetched my medical bag relieved that he was willing. He watched as I exchanged my black leather gloves for thin rubber gloves. It was standard procedure to wear surgical gloves during an examination to reduce the chance of initiating a bond. A doctor’s purpose in that moment was to heal, not to find a new soul bond.

He was quiet as I helped him remove the ruined clothing. I began my examination with gentle prods from my fingers. As I worked, I felt a strange sensation. It felt tingly and extremely pleasant. My brain stuttered; this feeling was impossible because I was wearing gloves. I should not be able to start forming a soul bond. I glanced at Holmes and he remained as impassive as ever. Perhaps I was mistaken. I chose to ignore it and kept my sight on his wound. 

The wound required stitching, and I needed to retrieve my supplies from my bag. The sensation decreased when I moved away from Holmes to prepare the needle and thread. I wondered if what I felt was real. 

After sterilizing my supplies, I began stitching up the wound. The tingling started as soon as I touched his skin. The sensation crawled up my arm and settled in my gut as a pool of warmth. This soul bond initiation was not the product of my imagination. 

This time I chanced a look at Holmes. He kept his focus on some distant point and remained silent. 

I needed to finish my stitching quickly. I suddenly realized that I had not examined his hand. I was sure there was glass embedded in his palm. I inwardly groaned; pressing palms together was typically how bonds were started, not this... situation. Maybe I could work using tweezers and have him hold his hand. 

“I’m done,” I said in a surprisingly even voice. I found tweezers in my bag and was ready to tend to his hand. 

“It is late,” said Holmes, “and you are tired. Get some sleep. I am perfectly capable of tending to my hand.”

“It would only take but a minute.”

“While that is true, I have no desire to be coddled.” 

“But...”

“I will leave either way. It is your choice if I have the appropriate supplies.” 

I conceded and placed the items next to my medical bag and stepped aside to give him room. I could not read his face when he thanked me, took the supplies, and retired to his bedroom. 

——

I lay in my bed unable to sleep. I was convinced the sensation was real and I had begun to form a soul bond with Holmes. The bond must be strong for us to initiate bonding in an unconventional way.

Perhaps Holmes’ sudden desire to be far away from me was because he sensed it too. He was a private man and we had not discussed our opinions on bonding. He might be one of the minority who did not wish to bond. 

I groaned and rolled over. If that were the case, I would need to apologize for my actions for it is reprehensible to bond without consent. 

But why did this happen now? I live with Holmes, albeit not for a long time, how have I kept from touching him? Was there any accidental brushing of our hands or arms? Or was it something absurdly simple that the layers acting as a barrier were too thick and this was the first-time we had touched with so little between us? No matter what questions I asked, I could not determine its answer. 

It was not to say that I was unattracted to Holmes. No, the very opposite was true. I felt drawn to his every action. Holmes often went about the house without gloves, where I religiously wore mine. I was mesmerized by the skilful use of his hands when he played his violin or delicately held a test tube. Watching his uncovered hands was shockingly intimate. It was usually saved for when you were with your soul bond partner.

I was willingly stay, but I didn’t know if the feeling was mutual. 

A new bond required careful tending with more physical contact until it had matured enough. Lacking that touch would cause the bond to shrivel and the ones bonded to be in pain until it finally broke. If Holmes was unwilling to bond or if he did not feel the same, then I would leave. What happened could be undone, but I needed to find new quarters. 

——

I woke in the early afternoon to a feeling an ache in my gut. I had not slept well, and now my body was telling me that the newly formed bond was breaking. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I contemplated whether I could face Holmes today. 

I heard a knock on my door and roused myself to answer it. Holmes was there. Fate had made my decision for me. 

“My dear Watson, are you ill?” 

“I am fine,” I said and gave him and smile that I knew was unconvincing. 

He returned a sad smile. “That is good to hear.” 

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For… For anything that happened yesterday.”

“Ah, I see. Would you permit me to perform a simple experiment? It shouldn’t take up much of your time.”

I could not deny him any request. “Yes, of course.”

He turned. “Good. Good, would you please sit on the edge of your bed?”

I did as instructed and waited for my next task. Holmes walked up to me. He stood close enough where I could touch him if I reached out my hand. While keeping his eyes on me he lifted his good hand. It was, as expected, covered by a glove. He slowly raised his tugged hand and tried tugging at the pointer finger of the glove but stopped. 

My eyes went wide, and I stared at his hand. 

“Remove my glove.”

My eyes shot up to his. It was a sign of vulnerability of acceptance. Something only the person you intended to bond with asked. In other circumstances it was scandalous to remove someone’s gloves.

“Holmes, I... are you sure?”

He nodded. “I did not expect to find anyone who was tolerant and a complement to me. I had better things to do then search for a compatible soul bond. “he smiled at me. “And to think that it found me.” 

“Did you know?”

“I suspected.”

“And you didn’t choose to share this with me?” I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. “There are not many that I desire to remain in their company. Now, remove my glove.”

With trembling hands, I gently pulled the black leather at each of his fingertips and the tingling began again in my fingertips. I was becoming addicted to the feeling and wanted more. 

“Would you permit me the same liberty?”

“Yes.” 

His moved his good hand to mine and I was hit with a shiver that went through my body and settled the ache in my gut. Holmes let out a gasp and I could see how much this affected him. We hovered our uncovered hands mere inches from each other.

“You know I will most likely not change,” Holmes said. “I will still be as unsociable and untidy as ever.”

“Good.”

He raised his eyebrow at me. “I will still investigate cases which will likely be dangerous.”

Which was not a deterrent in way. “And I will still follow you and offer my protection.”

“I am jealous. I could not tolerate another taking my place.”

“How can you think there would be another? You feel the strength of the bond; there is no other.”

We held each other’s gaze as we pressed our palms together.


End file.
